


Aces in Exile

by ddaybluedevil



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Ghostbusters AU, It’s slow burn, sooory, the war epic that no one wanted or asked for, the ww2 au no one asked for, with lesbians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2018-12-08 08:10:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11642469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddaybluedevil/pseuds/ddaybluedevil
Summary: The young, cocky Polish pilot is thrust into cirucmstances beyond her control and flies for country and revenge, the British nurse who got more than she ever bargined for, can the young boy who joined the combat engineers really find love in the midst of a war that is tearing the world apart? Can Abby not kill Phil about those butter dishes?Well, dear reader you should come into my war epic and read all about it!





	1. Fighter pilots in exile fly for foreign land

**Author's Note:**

> It's the war epic that no one asked for but I am writing it as I love history and my new little fandom. 
> 
> This was inspired by "Aces in Exile" by Sabaton and without further ado the WW2 AU no one asked for but I wrote anyway.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WWII AU-Meet the young, cocky Polish pilot, the loyal American Nurse, the brave Maquis fighter, and the British nurse 
> 
> slow burn
> 
> Holtzmann's first taste of combat

****_Fighter pilots in exile fly for foreign land_  
Let the story be heard of 303  
Fighter pilots of Poland in the battle of Britain  
Guarding the skies of the isle

**_Aces in Exile, Sabaton_ **

August 1942                

Flight Officer Jillian Holtzmann shivered as she sat in her Hawker, it was an early morning. She had been flying for twenty-eight weeks straight now and without rest. Her home country of Poland had fallen to the Nazis, only two years ago, now and she was just outside of London, flying sorties out of Heston. The Brits did not seem keen on having a female pilot flying with them but, she was part of the 317th and her C/O had risked his neck for her more than once so she could fly again. She had one kill, but they still promoted her from a Warrant Officer to Flying Officer, not bad for an orphan from Wrocław. She still had more to prove and she snaps her oxygen mask, determination in her face.

She will be part of the aerial escort for Operation Jubilee, she would be one of the few Polish aviators flying today. She tucked the picture of her adoptive mother and niece into her altimeter and revved the engines. Her Hawker, fully loaded with enough ammo for the trip there but she worried about fuel. The Channel was difficult to fly in bad weather, clear weather would make her a target, again no good options. She knew she had a lucky streak and she did not want to push it. The BritishS were pushy and the Polish commanders in exile could only do so much for them and it got difficult at times.

She missed her home and her mother, Rebecca, and the feeling of having a family to fight for. Holtzmann saw the convoy down below and hoped the poor chaps would be okay as they flew across the Channel.

This raid was far too ambitious and she had told Gabeszewicz about it, he told her she was lucky to even fly without being in her Polish Squadron and with the English. She had bloody warned the others that it would be a folly to attack during the day, with fighter planes and half of the Royal Navy Air Arm to boot. Polish Fighter Command dealt with the British and their hands are tied and was in no position to make demands or give an opinion on most of the operations their pilots flew in.

The Germans just loved to shoot down pilots and Holtzmann took a sharp right as she re-grouped with Beckman. Holtzmann spotted the tanks advancing towards those poor soldiers on the beach and radioed Beckman. She unsnapped her mask and pushed the mic receiver close to her face.

"Eagle One, Eagle One, we have a bogey down on the beach can I engage?" Holtzmann asked as she spoke into her mask radio.

"Roger Eagle Eight, permission to engage and give them hell. Remember to make it count." Beckman rasped.

Holtzmann climbed in the air as Beckman watched her six with ease and waited for her to begin her diving run. All fighter pilots trained to make bomb runs and fight in dog fights, she was proficient in all aspects of air combat and that included diving. The British had made many of them earn their wings again after the fall of Poland and it paid off. The shrill of the engines startled her as she finished her ascent and her plane shook, it was time to dive. Jillian throttled the brake as she turned down and then punched the accelerator as she began the approach. Her adrenaline kicked as she continued to dive towards the Panzer and she noted the feet, 5,000: 3,000, 1,000 500.. BAM! Holtzmann looked down in her cockpit and she had scored another tank kill. She whooped loudly as Beckman also cheered as the bomb had taken care of one of the finest "Panzer Elite". The squadron reformed and limped on home after a hard-fought battle.

 

* * *

Holtzmann seethed in her hut, Operation Jubilee had been a complete disaster. The raid had been a failure and they had lost half of the Free French pilots. The main force had been cut off by the Germans and Holtzmann seethed in her hut, she had seen this coming after studying the terrain around Dieppe. The Germans just had too many defenses and hardened soldiers. The British still needed as many combat pilots and they kept trying these useless raids, Saint Nazaire was one that rare gem that been successful and she wondered if they could ever push the Germans back if they kept up these useless raids.

She ran her hands through her hair and sighed. The Germans had everything that the Allies wished with combat hardened troops, good combat pilots, no shortage of planes, and more importantly they held the ground in France and most of the continent. An invasion would only work if they could overwhelm the ground forces and that was IF America would even come into the war in the European theater. They sure did have good soldiers, a smart field commander, proper equipment, and plenty of ammo.

The Americans had to be coming soon to alleviate this and soon or there would be nothing left to save. She sighed as fell on her bed and looked at the photo of her "mother", Rebecca who had raised her and got her out of that orphanage in Wrocław. It made her mad, because; she missed her family so much and her mother might not be in Warsaw anymore. The feeling of not knowing where her adoptive family was maddening and the fact that they could be dead, just for being in the wrong place by a Nazi jackboot.

It was hard not to feel down after she had lost her family, her home, her country, and not win a single battle. There was also the ten months in a hospital up after the wood cooker had exploded in her face during the Battle of France. She had been forced out of the fight and had to be evacuated due to a Frenchman's idiocy.

She had spent eighteen months in the hospital recovering from her burns and finally re-gained her eyesight after a long stay in a military hospital. Holtz is upset that she had missed so much and began training again with Beckman and the other men in the Squadron. The British were surprised when the Polish wanted a female fighter pilot but who was to question Polish logic? They were some of the toughest fighters the RAF had and they were not turning down applicants anytime soon. Holtz kicked her bed again and sighed, she missed her home and more importantly she missed not having to fly with her life on the line.

 

 

* * *

 

Holtzmann kicks her bed again and sighs, she misses home and more importantly she misses flying for fun, not with her life on the line.It was simply infuriating and made her question if this war was truly worth it after losing so much?

It was this question that kept Holtzmann up at night more than the thought of dying. She looked down at her hands and saw the scars from the day Rowan de North had blown both of them sky-high, that bastard died a week later from his injuries and Jillian had to suffer through one of the worst days of the war, Dunkirk. She wasn't able to fight and she had to be loaded into a small sailboat and ferried to Dover, it was miserable. The nurses had done their best and she tried to recall who loaded her on the boat but nothing of the woman who saved her life came to mind. 

She's still miserable as she stretches her aching hands and stays put on her bed, so much had happened and it still wasn't enough. The scars Rowan gave her had changed her and it was not like she would ever go back to not fighting, there was still much war left and she had to be brave and keep fighting. There was no other choice and sometimes she remembered what her mowa would say.

* * *

 

"You have to accept whatever comes and the only important thing is that you meet it with courage and with the best that you have to give." Gorin's voice echoed in her head, damn it mom she thought as she glared at her hands again.

She always told her that so many times and yet Jill struggled to meet the current situation with her best, it was hard after being beaten down so many times. Jillian had hated being sidelined after barely getting to fly in France and people still were not cool she was a woman, the Soviets had female fighter pilots and now the Polish did too. She sighs as she looks up at the ceiling and wonders what the future will hold, it will be difficult to keep being a hero and having no one to truly confide in, she missed her little niece, the girl was only eight now. Jillian slumped into her pillow and fell away into oblivion, her rotten day long behind her and fell into a restless sleep.


	2. Aftershocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftershocks of the raid on Dieppe and Patty finds some loyal friends after a close encounter with an enemy officer under the Nazi occupation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Ok, so here is Chapter 2 and I threw everything out I had originally written for this and decided f*k the outline. 
> 
> Also, I can only read German and therefore I do NOT speak German, so please bear that in mind when you read the German bits.

The sound of planes forced her awake as she jumped out of bed and reached for her knife. They were flying west and she slowly took a breath, then another. 

Patty had trouble sleeping and it was starting to get worse with the constant sorties that flew over the coastline. Her father had been in the Great War and she remembered the stories he told about the shelling 

This war seemed like nothing special until the Germans had invaded Poland. She had been lucky to escape the German convoy when she did and she had fled to Normandy, after Dunkirk. She had made fast friends with the Maquis and had started a small print shop in the town of Ouistreham selling postcards.

German soldiers called forces called her "Le Noir Gato" because they had never seen a black woman before and spit as she walked by, save a few officers who had gone to jazz clubs in Berlin or Paris. 

The venom in there insults really made her blood boil and the fact that she understood what the Germans said about her did not make it any better. She almost unleashed the “power of Patty” more than once but always tried to restrain herself.

The shop had another purpose behind the faded pictures of coast and historical tapestries, and that was moving Allied aviators and flight crew back across the channel, it was risky but she knew the risks, setting up ambushes and causing all sorts of general havoc for the Nazis. 

Patty was not afraid of dying the Germans would get theirs, after all her code name was 'Amazon'. That spread respect amongst the French and instilled terror in the unsuspecting Krauts guarding the coast.

The Gestapo made her life a continued hassle as she had to have so much paper to operate a damned postcard shop and Feldpost. 

Rebecca Gorin was the old Polish woman who owned the shop and could create any type of explosive, easily. She also tended to scare people and helped Patty out when a German officer tried to deport Patty, Rebecca would scream and fake a seizure and Patty would “save” her. This then convinced any officer that the crazy woman needed her Abschaum with her.

* * *

 

If Patty was anywhere near an 'actual' leader who started this war, she would have smacked him senseless, seriously Adolf? Patty will smack some fear into the Fürher’s face and she would be happy every second whilst doing so. 

Patty was tired of picking up young men and trying to stuff their vital organs back in after a strafing run or watching boys getting obliterated by artillery, leaving only their dog tags and a helmet. 

She had seen enough death to last a lifetime and yet there was more death to go in her lifetime. Patty tucked her beret into her messenger bag alongside her Walther pistol under the counter. She was a saboteur and often would go on raids with her new "friends" and destroy German convoys headed for the coast.

It was dangerous work but, after the abuse she had seen at Dunkirk she knew she had to escape and fight back. The Maquis had easily accepted her as one of their own and Gorin was a crack fighter, the woman could pick up a rifle and shoot a Kraut with great accuracy. 

Rebecca meant well but sometimes that woman was cold and terrifying. Patty preferred ambushes as she could kill the monsters who had taken her best friend away and stay away from an irate Pole who could kill an inspecting German without making a sound, save for the snapping of their necks. It was a pity that Erin could not come with her, it would make her situation easier and Erin was more fluent in French than German. 

God, her friend's German pissed off the guards so much they tried speaking in English and so many mishaps had ensued with her friend's poor grasp of the German language, Erin was still childish and after all there was a big age gap. Patty was already and Erin had only been eighteen during Dunkirk, what a shame. Rebecca spoke fluent German and often terrified the poor soldiers that came into use the Feldpost and Patty had to chastise her, a lot. The woman was a menace when she was inside or out in the field throwing a satchel charge on a bridge.

She hoped that Erin was doing okay and she remembered when they loaded up that Polish woman onto the sailboat that Erin barely could contain her tears, it was a miracle that anyone got out alive at all. That poor woman had burns that would leave most people disabled, yet she was coherent enough to say goodbye and give a little salute to Patty, she had been a major. They had done their best and they got most of the lads to safety, most. That continued to bother her that they could not get all the boys made it out but they had saved enough in the face of disaster. 

She straightened herself up and prepared herself for the busy day ahead, a German naval officer was coming pick up his party invitations and they had to be perfect. His was hosting a house warming party at an occupied chateau and had already the champagne from Paris and got the best ciders without paying the farmers who made the cider. Patty bustled around her shop setting an announcement here, placing carbon paper here and there, and setting the type on her press. 

Rebecca sat in the front of the shop smoking as she read a book and gave Patty a single glance before going back to her book. The old woman had barely escaped Poland and she was still distraught over losing her daughters, she did not talk about them much. 

She also had to radio that the Canadians and Free French commandos had moved further inland if the Maquis wanted to attempt a rescue for those that got captured at Dieppe. Those poor lads had no idea what the Germans had done to their native land.

* * *

 

“Should we try to radio ‘Viper’ or do you think she already knows about the raid?” Patty said as she set the last of the invitations under the desk.

“Viper has gone to bed with half of the German ‘Amazon’ so it would not surprise that she already knows about Dieppe and her contacts in London keep her updated. She’s working out of Paris after all with those idiots in your movement.” Rebecca snorted as she coughed on her cheap tabac cigarette.

“Less snark, more smiles would be appreciated ‘Diamond’ but I see your point. Lynch is coming by after our officer friend stops by.” Patty said as she walked over to the old woman and pats her back.

“Whoever came up with our codenames is an asshole. A stupid British asshole. Finish those invitations, a little tabac won’t kill me. Hauptmann better have some tabac and wrapping paper as part of the payment.” Becca replied as she shooed Patty back to the counter and muttered under her breath in what sounded like Polish? German? Patty couldn’t tell.

* * *

 

This was her life now and she sighed softly as she looked at the tattered picture of Erin and her in their nurse uniforms, those had been easier times and felt like a lifetime ago now. She now had to deal with an irate Pole who yelled at every Nazi and Frenchman who stepped through their door. 

There was not a single day that passed by that Patty did not worry about what happened to Erin, she had been such a young nurse. The officer entered the shop and Patty shot up straight as the officer scuffed his boot on the wooden floor.

"Sie beschäftigen diesen Abschaum in Ihrem Geschäft. Woher weiß ich, dass die Arbeit gut ist und nicht aus ihrer Unachtsamkeit resultiert?” Hauptmann said with a smirk and removed a glove as he examined the invite.

_("You employ this Abschaum in your shop. How do I know that the work is good and not result of their carelessness?")_

“Die Arbeit ist erledigt und doch fragst du, ob es gut ist, wegen ihr? Ich beaufsichtigte und kontrollierte die Arbeit und meine Ehre in meinem Geschäft, die Arbeit ist nicht minderwertig. Hauptmann, ich kann dich töten und keine Spur hinterlassen, dass ich es war." Rebecca said in an even and calm voice as her eyes glinted, Patty stared between the two of them nervously. 

_("The work is done and yet you ask if it is good, due to her? I supervised and controlled the work and my honor in my shop the work is not inferior. Hauptmann, I can kill you and not leave a trace that it was me.")_

He paid Patty and quickly left with his invitations. Patty put her hands on her hips and stared at Gorin, the woman was crazy. 

“What exactly did you say to him? That was a dangerous thing to do and Huaptmann is a man to go through with his threats.” Patty said as she sauntered back from the counter towards the older woman

“These men have coddled egos and they don’t exactly think a sixty-three-old woman who lived through four wars would challenge them? I have lived through many phases of what was the best empire that das führer says was the best. He’s full of shit and don’t you forget it. I never remember being full during the Austro-Hungrian rule. The Great War was the best thing that ever happened to me.” Rebecca said as she pointed at Patty with a grimace and went back to smoking her dingy cigarette.

Patty took it as a smile as ‘Brewer’ never smiled at her and a grimace was Rebecca’s equivalent of a smile. Leave it to the old woman to make the Great War sound like a godsend and Patty had been in the trenches. It had not been a pleasant time and all that damned artillery, she still had ringing in her ears from those 105’s. Patty had yet to contact 'Viper' after another risky operation in Le Havre had failed and sixty civilians rounded up and shot after the destruction of several fueling stations in the area. 

The reprisals only made the job worse as she thought of the poor families when they attacked a convoy. Sure, it was dangerous and yes, she was getting too old for this shit but what else could she do? Sit and do nothing? Those ambushes were keeping the kids in the area alive and if it was a crime to feed orphans, she would be guilty as charged. 

She remembered that one time she had slit that officer's throat and it had felt so good to be taking the fight straight to the enemy. It was not that long ago that she had been healing necks and now she was snapping them. The Nazis deserved it and after watching all those boys get executed at Dunkirk, it was bloody well worth it if she took a few of those butchers with her, knowing full well that she could die the next day by a firing squad or on a raid.

* * *

 

Lynch strode into the shop with a blue beret on her head and a smirk on her face. The little shop bells twinkled as she walked through the door and sat down by Rebecca. She tossed her bag gently on the table and kicked her feet up on the table, smirking. 

“What did you do and if you snuck TNT into Hauptmann’s pie I will not be disappointed.” Rebecca said as she rocked back and forth in her chair. Patty swiveled angrily and looked at the mad woman who was chuckling.

“No, I found this.” Jennifer said as she pulled fresh bread out of her bag alongside some fine wine.

“Where did you find this? Please don’t tell me you stole from Hauptmann again?” Patty asked as Jennifer shook her head. The young girl had the hands of a thief and a smile of an angel but Patty wanted to keep her on the narrow.

"That's a 1936 vintage, good work 'Rat'." Gorin said as she pats Jennifer on the back and gives Patty a slight smirk.

“No, Patty you know me and besides these were ‘liberated’ from the docks. I told you I would not steal from Hauptmann if he was a client.” The young thief said as she passed the ‘spoils’ to her friend. Patty smiled as she examined the bottle and the crisp bread, it was fresh and not like the stale bread behind the counter.

“Well, we will be eating good tonight and you are staying tonight Jennifer. No arguments.” Patty said as Jennifer started to protest that she would be fine on her own.

“Have an early birthday present from me.” Rebecca said as she tossed Jennifer a packet of cigarettes as Patty frowned.

Rebecca was trying to be nurturing but she was failing at it and she had two daughters? How? Patty just shook her head as she prepped their meal and hoped they would live to make it another day. War made them a very strange family, especially after Jennifer’s parents had been sent to the camp in Drancy. 

So, it was up to Patty and Rebecca to raise the thief and Patty really did not like how Rebecca just trusted Jenn with asking any questions. There would be lots of talking after dinner about the best course to raise the wine smuggling thief, it was some damn good wine though. She should not be liking it but it was hard not to, she could not remember the last time she had some good wine and a fresh loaf of bread. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how do you guys like it? Want more? Leave a kudos or comment on here and I'll be a gay little writer. 
> 
> Again, slow going as I get plot lines to intersect and keep this badasses from killing me (seriously, Gorin could kill a Nazi with a toothpick, hehe and she slightly terrifies me of what she could do later). 
> 
> Hit me up on Tumblr if you want to talk or discuss fic stuff. Don't worry as I don't bite!
> 
> ddayreddevil there too!


	3. It Will Be A Long, Long Time Before I See You Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erin finds her new home as she finds her place and makes some unexpected allies in the bustling Paris of the East. Will she find the courage to fight or remain in the shadows (my summaries suck, I have been writing analyses on the Cold War and Greek mythology for school, end me).

September 5th, 1942

The cramped train car swayed with many people, speaking different languages all at once that her mind could not keep track of all the words being spoken at once. The time in the train car seems to go on and on and Erin tries to remember the last time she had a shower, it had been how long again. She had been on the continent since the summer of 1940 and here she was finally taking a shot at freedom. Her legs start to feel numb and she rubs her hands on them, trying to revive feeling into them as she stares at the man who sits down and joins her

 Comment allez-vous ? J'ai une cigarette, prends-la. Je suis Gefreiter Matthias au Nord de la Légion Française et j'ai eu un frère à Dunkerque, tué par la stupidité d'un pilote polonais. Et tu» The young man said as he plops down next to Erin as he handed her a cigarette.

( _How are you doing? I have a cigarette, take it. I am Gefreiter Matthias North of the French Legion and I had a brother in Dunkirk, killed by a Polish pilot's stupidity. And you? )_

« Je vous remercie de la fumée, Gefreiter Nord. Mon nom est Erin et je dois demander sommes-nous vers l’est ? » Erin replies after she takes a very long drag on the cigarette and little did she know it would be one of her last cigarettes for a long time.

_(Thank you for the smoke, Gefreiter North. My name is Erin and I must ask, are we heading east?)_

  
« Bien sûr! Ceci est le train à Varsovie, puis les lignes orientales pour moi. » He replied and chewed on his pipe as the train barrelled on.

_ (Of course! It's the train for Warsaw, then the eastern lines for me.) _

* * *

 

The rest of the train ride passed in an uncomfortable silence with the occasional thud on the line here and there. Erin could only hope they would not recognize her for what she truly was; a convict. The time she had spent in Drancy was no way to live and she had been lucky to smuggle herself on this train and even luckier that this- the man next to her did not detect her accent. Her French was much better than her German and she had no working knowledge of the Polish language.

She had taken a big risk with even speaking and yet she wanted to take back every syllable of French that she had uttered. Her heart raced as she slowly looked up and saw the soldier get up and head to the club car.

The soldier had not seemed to notice and she let out a deep breath. Erin eased back into the seat and looked out the window. The green fields had turned into dark forest and she wondered what lurked behind the trees.

Erin would have to be brave and what was it that her dad always said. What was it her dad always said? Adapt or die. Lovely advice Pop. What about her Nan, she always told her to fling dog shit at the German neighbors? Damn it, her family was useless in the time of a crisis and she had no wise words to fall back on. Kevin.

Kevin. Her lovely step-brother, Kevin and what was it he had said before he shipped out to Belgium? She daydreamed about that day as she felt the gentle hum of the train beneath her.

_“Better one day as a lion, then one hundred days as a sheep. Remember that.” Kevin said as he hugged her goodbye and hopped on the train._

_“You have to write me every day! I love you brother.” Erin shouted as she watched her brother disappear into the train._

_"I will! Keep Corki safe from the evils of blackout curtains."  He yelled_ _from the window and they waved goodbye as he went to fly._

_That would be the last day she would see her older brother and it would also be the last time she would wave one of her brothers goodbye._

_She slowly walked away from the platform and sits on one of the old oak benches. It wouldn’t be long before she would be on the frontlines tending to the dying and wounded. Her native Kent was now a distant memory and the old oak seemed to be the only thing she could remember._

She wakes up and thinks of her room back home and all of its contents: the bed, the small clippings of newspaper, her Vera Lynn recordings, her Dress Uniform, her Girl’s Guide, a pocket knife. There would be no need the officer had said. Home by June they said. She bundles into her jacket as she watches the landscape go speeding by and hopes Warsaw may be the luck she has been hoping for. There had been no time to stop for lunch and her stomach growls a little at the thought.

The club car had been reserved for German personnel and she would just have to wait until they got to Warsaw. She would have to solve her food problem then and she watched as the scenery flew by.

* * *

September 15th, 1942

The train slows to a stop and Erin picks up her small bag. They let the German soldiers off first and she stretches her leg as she gets off the platform and looks for currency exchange, finding it near the exit of the train station. The man exchanges her francs for glotzsy and gives her a grim look. She looks down at the money and sighs as the exchange rate was weaker than what she was hoping for. Her money could last her six weeks, seven if she didn’t need eat for a day or two. She needed a job and she thought of what she could do. There weren’t many options for a British woman in this town other than joining the resistance and she sighed.

The only reason she was here is she bribed two conductors with her cigarettes and she had no official papers to speak of. Erin did not think she would even get this far and yet, here she is. She could get a hotel room for a few nights with the money she had but, what happened after that? Stay low or fight back, those were her two options.

This city would give her a chance to strike back at the Nazis and oh how she wanted to after all the casualties at Dunkirk. She had seen the horrors at Drancy and where there was a couple of camps, there were bound to be more. Erin makes her trek into the city and it still lay in ruins, this had been dubbed the “Paris of the East” and it is now a shell of its former  
glory. The old cobbled streets ripped of pavers and burned out storefronts litter the old town and an ugly wall surrounds a city block. This would have to be home.

She hunted around for any chance of finding food, but she was unsuccessful. Gangs of children roamed the street and played in the rubble of burnout buildings. The war had hit this place harder than the papers made out.

There were newspaper sellers hawking everything from papers to illegal food rations as people and children swirled around these stalls.

One of these children showed up after she had finished haggling for the day and stuck by her. The girl had tailed all the way back to the hotel and Erin had to wonder where this child’s parents could be. Unless, she had lost her parents during one of the raids. Or she could think she was a relative and it could be a case of mistaken identity.

“Ziemniak.” The girl said as she pointed to the bag that Erin clutched under her arm.

“My bag? There is no food in here” The former nurse asked with surprise evident in her voice.

“Tak.” The girl replied simply with a smirk forming on her face.

“Come on, I have nothing. Can you speak English?” Erin asked and waited for the girl’s response.

“Ziemniak, proszę, wiem, trochę po angielsku i niemiecku.” The girl replied and Erin grimaced, she did not know any Polish.

Let’s try this again, can you say that in English?" Erin asked as she bent down and looked at the girl staring back at her.

“Potato, please you have enough from the exchange man near the station to get me one. I’m Jhula and I’m 11. Ziemniak, potato. Free lesson on the house.” Jhula replied as she danced around Erin and pocketed some of the glotzsy Erin had in her pocket.

“Where are your parents?” Erin asked as she felt the little hand go in her pocket and chose to ignore it for the moment

The girl merely shrugs and looks at her, told her, “I do not know. Mowa got on the train and did not notice I was not there. Aunt has been missing since 39’, I was only six or seven then. Look, we both need food. I know where and you seem to be smart.” Jhula replied with a knowing smirk and Erin knew she had been pickpocketed, she just refused to yell or do something that would expose both of them.

“I am but are you-homeless? Do you need someone to look after you-until we find your mother that is? I am Erin.” Erin said as she looked at the girl who was hopping around.

“Thanks for the offer but, I have a place and I can look after myself.” Jhula said with a smile and hopped on her right foot as she smiled at the woman.

"Then why would you ask me for a potato?” Erin asked with sincerity as Jhula hopped on her other foot, was she-no, she could recognize a con artist? Right?

“I’m hungry, we all are. I haven’t eaten in weeks and your bag isn’t dusty like the rest of the women’s handbags.” Jhula said with an impish grin and pretended to wander a few feet away. Would it work?

“Come here, you stay close and I can get us a hotel with a bed. An actual bed. Please, let me get you off the street.” Erin said as she lunged for the wandering child conifrming her suspsicon of it not being a con or the main schemer would have come out of the woodwork by now.

“Ok. You are my cousin then and if anyone asks you are from Lorraine, not Britain.” Jhula replied as she smirked at the woman who was taking her in, oh the pranks she could play.

“Got it, come on. We have curfew to worry about. I’ll see if the hotel has a meal for the night, how do you feel about borsch?” Erin asked as she grasped the child's hand and walked down the street to find a hotel that would take them both.

* * *

September 20th, 1942

It had taken Erin a while to adjust with Jhula and the eleven-year-old had spunk. Her room is in one of the many old hotels in Old Town was a single and had the squeakiest of beds. Jhula slept soundly on the couch after a healthy meal and warm bath. This was better than living in the slat beds at Drancy and that Erin could be thankful for. The ten months in that camp had shown her the true face of the Nazi regime and she fled, oh how she fled. It was getting colder and she shivered as she looked out of the small window. The streets had small signs of life but, it had gotten worse since she got there.

She would need clothes for the winter and so would her young ward. Erin had met a member of the SOE a few nights ago, a bloke by the name of Wilcox. He seemed like a good chap and gave her a meeting time that would occur in three days time, she had a small envelope he had written on also had a small stamp of a ‘K’ that seemed to be a ‘P’ with two hooks flying out of it. She would ask her little imp what this meant later but for now it was time to rest. She thought of when the man had given her the letter at the bar downstairs.

_"You know what Pericles said about freedom, right?" Wilcox asked he smoked his cigarette at the bar and glared at her, he was a hard looking man._

_"Freedom is the sure possession of those alone who have the courage to defend it." Erin replied with a mere tap of her cigarette into the ashtray at the bar.  
_

_The man was taken aback and then slid a piece of paper to her, "I have some friends who would find your contributions most helpful."_

 Jhula was another thing that she had not excepted or really wanted to take on fully and yet, Jhula found her way to Erin’s side. It was an odd thing but, she could live with it. The young girl refused to be anywhere without Erin except when she went to the sofa and Wilcox refused to tell her who the young girl belonged to. It was honestly worse than dealing with Kevin after a bad soccer match and that she could handle.

* * *

September 30th, 1942

Jhula sat on the sofa and waited for Erin to come back from her meeting. She had translated the flyer like she had asked and was waiting for her to get back. Why would Erin go to the zoo and not take her?

"I am back.  It took longer than I thought due to my lack of Polish knowledge of street signs but, I have some potatoes and cabbage. Do you want soup?" Erin asked as she put down the old paper bag and stored some of the tea away in a tin.

"Can you make anything else with those two items?" Jhula said as she folded her arms and glared at her.

"Jhula, please.” Erin said with a sigh as she looked at the angry eleven year old

"Where were you Erin? The Nazis closed the zoo and that symbol on the flyer you had is part of the Home Army.” Jhula stated matter of fact and gave a small hmph with an air of victory about her.

“I won’t lie to you. I was there to see if I could join. They said I am on a probationary period and I told them about you.” Erin replied as she walked over to the girl on the sofa.

“What did they say?” The girl asked as Erin finally took her shoes off and settled in on the couch.

“A man named Jáchym Mach told me she was safe." Erin said as she kicked her feet up and slung her arm around Jhula, cradling the girl as the news was bleak.

“So, my mowa is okay?”The girl asked as she looked up at the tired British woman who sighed.

“That is what he said. She was headed a west and that was all he saw before he was picked up .” Erin said with sadness as she looked at the young girl who seemed to quibble.

Jhula started to cry and Erin put a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Where is she and why did she leave me?”

“Oh. Jhula, don’t cry.” Erin said as she picked the youngster up and held her close to her chest, “I know she would not leave without a good reason. I may not know where she is but, she loves you. I love you.”

“I know. I-Jillian left to fly and then after that the-Nazis came and mowa was worried about me. She went to the train station and said she was getting tickets. She never came back.” Jhula said as she sobbed into Erin’s shoulder and clutched the British woman tightly.

Erin sighed as she gently held the young girl in her arms and walked around the room. She had learned snippets of Jhula’s past but, she did not think of how the young girl been abandoned. Erin could only think of the youngster in front of her and it was hard to think of what the girl had suffered beforehand. Who would leave their own flesh and blood? It was something lost on Erin and she gently holds the youngster against her chest

“Let’s see if what can’t cook something and I promise we will keep looking for her, okay?” Erin said as she held the youngster as she walked over to the stove and put Jhula down gently

“Okay.” Jhula replied as she looked up at the British women and held Erin’s hand as she dried her tears.

“I’ll let you peel the potatoes. I think we can have cabbage and potato soup. I smuggled some tea too, so it’ll feel like a proper dinner.” Erin said as she put the tea in the small teapot and on the stove, “Jillian, he said she was in Britain and that was all he knew. I wish I had more to give you than just that.”

The girl only nodded as she grabbed at the potatoes and took one of the peeling knives Erin had gotten after her meeting. The smell of cabbage soon began to waft in the room and for once Jhula did not feel alone. The tea also smelled inviting and for the first time since she had lost her mowa, she felt safe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my gift to you as I finished all my finals today! (I have one left tomorrow, ugh. Sleep is for the weak ) so be on the look out for another update then as I celebrate the end of the semester tomorrow and the end of finals, so I will be back to updating stuff (fairly regular, I hate that it took this long to get Chapter 3 up, 4 and 5 to follow VERY soon!)
> 
> Smash a kudos or drop me a line in the comment section if you enjoyed thus long awaited update, again, stay in school work like a maniac, and don't chug copious amounts of Mtn. Dew to stay awake.


	4. Operation Torch pt 1 (the beginnings)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby's introduction with her core group of nurses who are readying for the invasion of North Africa alongside familiar faces.

November 3rd, 1942

Lt. Abigail Yates hates this damned boat. The last time she had been on a boat was when her family had taken a cruise down to Mexico. The swaying of the boat reminded her of the days spent in the cabin while brother made fun of her for wanting to study anything other than nursing at Columbia.

She had punched him in the arm rather hard and Abby smiled at the memory, Colin was a good brother.

The Army Nurses were a tough but caring bunch and she knew it would be okay, they were trained for the worse, just not sea-sickness. Her sister, Lousie, would be in her element but Abby was having trouble with the waves.

Up and down, up and down. Abby reached for the barf bucket and spit out what was left of her breakfast, sighing at the relief of emptying her stomach's contents.

“Hey Yates, how is that breakfast staying down?” Jane “Jeannie” Sherman, of Kalispell, Montana, asked as she landed back in her bunk.

  
“Miserably. I should not have had that bacon after all.” Abby replied as she sat down opposite of Jane who gave a sympathetic smile.

  
“I warned you about the cooks on this tin cannot cook well.” Gertrude Aldridge replied with a haughty laugh and returned to her letter writing.

  
“Shut up, Gertie, I don't need your gloating to add to my bloating.” Abby retorted from the lower bunks retort as the Long Island native ‘hmphed’ and rolled to her other side.

  
“Have you heard from Colin recently? Did he pass Basic?” Jane asked ignoring the irate Manhattan socialite on the top bunk.

  
“Barely. He is a full-fledged Marine now and guess what he is doing now?” Abby said with a hint of pride as she lay in her swaying bunk.

  
“Mortars? Bazookas? Cooking?” Jane said as she quizzed her friend the fate about the unfortunate brother, the newly minted Marine.

  
“No, worse. Machine guns.” Abby said with a grin and flopped back on her bunk.

  
“That is worse but not as worse as your sea-sickness and inability to hold breakfast.” Jane said as she sipped her canteen of coffee and sighed, “Terrible, just terrible. It’s like they aren’t even trying!”

  
“My brother, Albert, he’s in the Marines too and do you anything else about where he’s stationed Abby?” Gertrude asked as she stopped her letter and stared at the officer opposite her bunk.

  
“2nd Marines, Albert is in what unit?”

  
“1st Marines, 2nd Recon and he was complaining last week about supplies from the Civil War. I don’t doubt it for a second with the Quartermasters in this damned outfit. You have any siblings Jeannie?” Gertrude asked as the ship continued to sway through the swell.

  
“One, he’s a naval chaplain, George, on the USS Enterprise and those pilots don’t have it easy. Jane said as she paused, “I propose a toast! To the Quartermaster Corps their inability to get proper supplies to frontline unit.” Jane said as she raised her canteen in a mocking toast as the nurses raised their canteens up.

  
“Ladies, we need to batten down these hatches-so if you’d oof.” Ensign Phil Hudson said as he banged his head on one of the swinging bed racks and landed on the ground, clutching his head.

  
“You, okay sailor?” Gertrude asked in a bitter sweet tone as Phil struggled to stay up right, “I have some bandages, c’mere handsome.”

  
“Thanks, Gertie. You are a gem when you aren’t on your period.” Phil replied with a smirk and backed away as the nurse in question looked ready to vomit in his direction.

  
“Get going Phil or we will start throwing our Army issued tampons at you” Jeannie said as he received a pelt from her powder brush.

  
“I think three of us are on the same cycle right now, so choose your next words wisely.” Abby retorted as she ready a GI-issued tampon at the poor Ensign who was just doing his job, poorly.

  
“I’m going to leave now.” Phil said as he hastily retreated back up the bunk row and ran into the knee-knocker on the way out.

  
“Jeannie, you scared him bad and he looked terrified.” Gertrude said with a smirk and rolled over to look at the poor women who both gave her a wink.

  
“It’s me, Yates, Blackburn, and Holliday who are struck with this blasted cycle right now.” Jeannie moaned as she lay still on her un-comfy bunk.

  
“I deserve a Purple Heart after the hell we went to for the toilets.” Abby replied with a groan.

  
“The sailors kept laughing since we weren’t looking for the head.” Marion chimed in as she puffed on her cigarette and looked at her fellow nurses.

  
“This is why I joined the Army! I was going to punch Phil, if he didn't stop asking me if needed help finding the head. Sheez, I worked with bums and they weren't as feely as sailors". Abby retorted with a smirk and looked back as Marion shot her a smile.

  
“There’s a dick measuring contest in every branch, you’ll see. The Marines just don’t have the problem of women with them in the Pacific.” Gertrude replied with a knowing smirk and drifted off to sleep. 

* * *

 

November 9th, 1942

The hospital had been built two days ago since the invasion had started. they had men with broken bones from falling from the ships, hitting the sides of ships and they had plenty of sprained ankles. They had an engineer with some broken ribs from getting crushed against his boat and landing craft. It was not exactly what Abby thought being a front-line nurse was about, it would have to do. She expected more gunshot wounds; the days were coming where she would hope for a simple ankle sprain.

  
A formation of planes roared as she finished unloading more of their supplies from a truck and looked up at the fast Hurricanes dash across the sky. She had not met any aviators yet, they were a breed all their own and unlike infantry soldiers, smarter and they did not try to eat dirt or make her go insane by trying to out-do each other by hitting each other with shovels or dick measuring contests

“Whatcha’ thinking about Abby?” Jane asked as she finished unloading the last of the penicillin from the supply crate.

  
“The war. There are so many people united in one cause and we get to witness it, it feels like history is unfolding before our eyes.” Abby replied as she looked back at Jeanine who had a mischievous grin on her face.

  
“Yeah, and Gertrude just got into an Australian. They were doing it in the supply tent and I could live without seeing her ass.” Jeannie replied with a groan as she handed the sutures to Abby who also gave a groan.

  
“Jeannie! Why would tell me that? I could have lived a hundred years without knowing she has as an ass or anything to do with her posterior.” Abby retorted with a grimace as she put the sutures down and pointing a scaplel, "never again?"

  
“We suffer together godmanit. He was an ANZAC too, so sue me.”

  
“We all know she is into men with connections and wealth.”

  
“She made a connection all right.”

  
“You unloaded those bottles of penicillin?”

  
“Yeah, yeah, Phil helped me, and god are all men born stupid?”

  
“It’s Phil, just maybe we can find you a man with a brain. Cole is pretty easy on the eyes and doesn’t seem that stupid.”

  
“West Point grad or the man who’s never seen an ocean before 1940? I’ll take the one with a brain.”

  
“You have to pick one, so you get Cole. We can’t be like Gertrude who just sleeps with everything in sight.”  
The nurses slowly wound down after finally setting up the field hospital properly. They had been dealing with injuries that were directly related to the invasion.

  
"I still can't believe Fischer broke all those ribs from missing the net." Jeannie said with a sigh as she sat down on her cot and looked across from Gertrude who had done the same.

"They trained and trained but when it comes down to the show, well pressure's on now. Cole made me clear him for tonight, god that man.” Gertrude replied as she kicked her boots off and shimmied into the cot, "I would not have heard the end from Rourke if we just treated

"Rourke is like a bad schnauzer with all bark and no bite." Jeannie replied and Gertrude sighed, shaking her head.

"He had enough for Fischer to get cleared for the raid. You see Abby yet? She was still talking to Clinton and Cole after they finished setting up the OR a few hour ago." Gertrude asked  

Jeannie took a pause before she looked around once and saw that most of the other nurses were asleep.She whisper-yelled to Gertrude. "It's Clinton, I heard a rumor in the head that she was stepping down after this invasion which would mean Holliday, Abby, me, then you in would command the nurses if things go South."

"What'd I miss gals? Clinton was briefing us on all our responsibilities and the new chain of command.” Abby asked as she flopped onto her bunk as Captain Marion Holliday did the same and sighed as she landed on her cot

  
"Yeah, we have a rough and long road ahead. The British have barely held on as it is, and they want our guys to do their fighting. We have to fix a Limey up if they roll through here and Cole definitely had a few choices words for Watson, he’s one of Montgomery’s officers." Marion replied with a grimace and looked up at the other nurses, all of whom shared a mixed reaction.

  
"Marshall fought in the previous war and he knows our boys don't fight well under a foreign command. Why should we care if a Brit gets hit?” Jeannie asked from across the aisle and she could hear Holliday’s sigh from across the room.

  
"That's we told the surgeons but, Cole was having none of it. We fight alongside em' and do you just leave them there?” Abby replied as she sat down and began shaking the boots free of the sand that had come to nest in her soles.

  
“No, my father fought in the previous war and he saved a Brit who had been stranded in ‘No-Man’s-Land. So, yes, you wouldn’t just leave them out under withering fire, we do our best to treat them no matter the nationality.” Marion retorted and looked across at some of the finest nurses that she had known thus far.

  
“Even if they are a Nazi?” Gertude asked her eyes wide as saucers at the mere thought of treating a Nazi soldier.

  
“Yes, even then. Lights out, ladies, we have busy days ahead of us.” Holliday replied as she yanked the light off and waited for the dawn to come soon.

* * *

  
November 10th, 1942

  
Holtz spotted a Stuka that was beginning to dive, and she pushed her Hawker to intercept. She fired the .303's and the Stuka started to burn. It crashed into the canyon and exploded, she smirked as the sky streaked with pinks of the sunset, very different from the drab colors of Warsaw. Beckman radioed in and told her he had a fuel leak, he, was heading back to the carrier.

She circled around the column as Bennie flew into Kevin's spot and they both re-oriented the other men and as they strafed the guard towers. Night flying was a difficult task and Bennie was still getting used to flying with a fighter wing. Holtzmann released her purple flare and that would alert the officers on the ground of her situation.

The officer, Watson, knew that she needed to refuel and urged his American counterpart to hurry, the airfield needed to be in operation sooner rather than later.

Holtz knew she had at least half a tank of fuel before she would have to bail out. She climbed higher to get some distance from those Fw. 190’s and looked to her left. Where was Bennie? Those bogies were getting damn close and Bennie should be five minutes behind her. The man could just not keep up and she wondered why they had filled him in a fighter slot, he would be better as a bomber pilot. She slowed her descent and only leveled when she was about three thousand meters from the ground. One of the German fighters crashed, and the other remained on her tail. He fired his guns and Holtz felt her plane kick, not a good sign.

“Bennie, come in. Eagle Four come in. Shit.” She muttered as she heard the shriek of another German plane below her.

That was not good to be this close to the ground and have a kicking Hurricane. She pulled up on the throttle and began to climb back up into the wild blue. The German pilot seemed to have the same idea and Holtz felt the sweat on her brow. She needed to shake this bogey and she needed to do it soon, she noticed her rear rudder tearing and shot to pieces and she has an oil leak.

“Eagle Two this Eagle Four, trying to shake this bogey. Repeat any planes can assist-.” Bennie spoke as the static filled air and another German ace had scored a kill.

“Shit, gówno! Eagle Three, reads you Eagle Four. Eagle Four, where are you? Gówno! ” She screeched as she fought against her dying plane and tried to hold the metal bird together for a minute, two if she was lucky.

Her gauges kept blinking at her, angry with the bullets lodged into the belly of her baby. The pilot seems to match her every move and she knows she needs to up the ante. Beckman could have gotten this bogey off her tail, no questions asked. That Welshman was such an idiot but damn, he was an excellent aviator.

  
She feels the shudder that goes through the plane and knows she needs to bail or she will die, not that she had any plans to do that today, so she does the sensible thing, she quickly jumps out of her dying Hawker, tries not to snag her leg on the metal and pushes off the wing. Bennie was dead, the sky was getting dark, and she could only think of the third Fw.190 below her, that bastard had come out of nowhere. She sends a quick prayer up that he won’t turn and shoot her parachute out of the sky, it was bright white after all.

Holtz points herself towards the Americans and feels the heavy gusts of wind trying to pull away from where she wants to be. The machine gun fire barks as it illuminates the ground as she gets closer and closer. She finally hits the ground and rolls into the nearest cover, sweating as she gets into cover behind the truck.

She looks over and notices the American corpse lying beside her, she grabs the rifle and straps the heavy helmet on her head. Holtz holds the helmet for a second and notices the body. No time to mourn for the dead.

She struggles to clear the firing bolt and she manages to eject the empty clip. Holtz lifts the rifle and fires at one of the incoming French soldiers who must have noticed that she was struggling to pick the rifle up. The kickback from the rifle startles her but, she stays in cover as the infantry inches up to her current position. She raises her head and at the French machine gun nest homes in on her, she flies to the ground gripping her arm.

Her helmet flew off as she falls to the ground, clutching her shoulder as the, her leg is on fire and she does not know if that is from jumping out an airplane or 'Mr. Machine Gun'.

* * *

Cpl. Jim Hawkins rushed towards the downed pilot and began digging in his musette bag for a bandage. He needed to get to Fischer and when he finally got behind the overturned truck he stopped. The pilot was curled up next to the dead Finn and sobbing.

The pilot was speaking frantically in Polish and he seemed to understand what she was pointing to. She had a shoulder wound and it seemed ugly, it would leave a nasty scar and she kept pointing at it. Hawkins remained calm as he undid the bandage and kept his head down as the battle raged around them.

The bullets pinged and zinged around them as the engineers slowly advanced across the airfield, the machine guns were pinning men down left and right. He finished wrapping her shoulder steady as he rolls up her sleeve and readies his morphine syrette, injecting it into her shoulder to ease her pain. He looked up again and noticed that his patient was a woman, a woman!

Hawkins calmed her and noticed her leg, he ripped the sulfa packet and poured it into her leg. The sulfa would help the leg from getting infected and he ripped the tourniquet out of his bag, tying it to the exposed part of her leg. He looked at her, shocked that she flew combat missions for the Air Force, it was unheard of and he felt tired, he holds her hand as he inspects the tourniquet and finishes tying it off.

He wraps her leg with gauze and puts the helmet back on the woman's head as rifle and machine gun fire fly overhead. These Frenchies weren’t making it easy on any of them tonight, least of all the air force.

"You'll need this, I think it may take a while before the rest of the squad gets here, stay down, right as rain.” Hawkins yells as the woman does just that he sees she is groaning and that is a good sign, it means the sulfa is starting to kick in.

He waits for a lull in the hail of fire as he lifts the woman on his back and runs back to Sgt. Rourke and the rest of the squad. The Frenchies really didn’t want to let this airfield and it showed with ‘Mr. Machine Gun’ as the pilot had stammered out.

* * *

 

A young Private Garrett Kelly and Corporal Carlyle rush to meet the medic as he helps get the woman on a stretcher and they carry her back to the squad, Garrett pops his canteen and hands it to the pilot who downs it greedily.

"What the hell where you thinking Corporal? You could have been shot or worse killed!" Sgt. Rourke yells above the din of gunfire as Hawkins looked at his friend, it was a moot argument.

"I wasn’t Rourke, I saw her go down and knew I had to jump into action. Would you rather she dies in the field?" Jim says as Rourke glares at him, he did not want to have this argument in front of the men.

  
“I’d rather you followed orders and treated Fischer first!”

  
“He’s dead Jas! Fischer, Henry, Hayes, half of the HQ staff are dead. Do you get it Jas? Spengler is the only officer left in the field.” Hawkins replied as he struck his cigarette and took a deep drag on it.

  
This was their first baptism of fire, Rourke was lucky he had not lost as many as he could have. The men of the 15th Engineer Battalion were only getting started in this fight.

"Hey, the 104th Evac are down the road. Rourke, Carlyle, Kelly and Hawkins. I am entrusting you numbnuts with getting our friend down there, can you do that Rourke?" Lieutenant Spengler yells from his half-track, which illuminated the dark night

  
Rourke and his squad move the makeshift stretcher onto one of the unit Jeeps and pile in as Hawkins takes the wheel.

  
“So, Kelly where you from?” Hawkins asked as his slid the pilot in the back of the jeep and waited for the young man to get in as he turned the engine over.

  
“Berlin Mills, New Hampshire. I drifted for a few years after finishing my courses in Durham and I decided to enlist, one of the stupidest things I ever did.” Kelly responded as he hopped in the passenger seat, "I volunteered for this shit."

  
“Evergreen, Alabama, Kelly you never volunteer for shit in this army. I should know I was voulntold to go to Haiti and look at me now, with you numbnuts.” Rourke barked with a smile as he stuffed some chew into his mouth and looked out past the convoy.

  
“Carlyle, Queens and I’m just getting by in this crackshit outfit.” Bob replied as they rolled on through the darkened pass.

  
“No one asked you Carlyle, I liked Fischer better anyway.” Hawkins replied and clutched the wheel tightly at the realization of what had happened. 

  
“Where was that Finn from anyway?” Rourke asked as he chewed on his tobacco, softer at the thought of the dead man.

  
“Virrat but he told me his wife was living in Odessa, Texas and she was six months pregnant.” Garrett replied and looked back towards the pilot who just stared up into the sky.

  
“Damn.”

The jeep grew very quiet as the men thought about their dead friend and stared at the pilot who lay quiet in the back. Garett offered a smoke to the injured pilot and she gratefully took it. She was very quiet, and Garrett had to figure she is not used to people being nice to her, especially with a smoke or no friends anyway.

The men fell into an un-easy silence as they drove back up the road and saw all the casualties in trucks and on jeeps. The column seemed to have no end and the men realized how long this war was going to be.

“You think we’ll be here long Rourke?” Garett asked as he looped his rifle around his arm and stared ahead, trying to ignore the smell of the casualties and petrol in the air.

“I hope not. Holtzmann.” The small woman coughed through the cigarette and start at the men with her piercing blue eyes, full of a lifetime at war.

“You rest easy there, Holtzmann. We will get you to the 104th soon enough and you will be right as rain. Where you from?” Kelly said with a smile and the woman mustered a smile at his comforting words.

“Wrocław, mate. Now be a good chap and get me to the hospital before I lose this leg here.” Jillian asked as Hawkins and Kelly nod as they drive up road, “hey watch the bumps!”

“Sorry, sorry. Hawkins is a shit driver and we will get you to the 104th and you’ll be right as rain. That’s what my ma always told me when I got hurt.” Garrett said as he put a comforting hand on her shoulder as they snaked up the road.

  
“Screw you, Kelly. I got us here didn’t I?”

  
“Kelly, Bob, lift her down and get her in there. Jim get re-supplied we move out in a few hours." Rourke barked as he went over to talk to an orderly.

The war was just beginning for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally apologize for the lack of updates lately and I know I need to get in a schedule which I plan on getting everything on track and done for this monster of an au (um 30-35 chapters as of my last writing sesh) so I'll see what I can get done in the next few weeks and weekends. 
> 
> Also, I have some other things in the woodwork and will be releasing when I get the chance and time off from school ( thank goodness, the universities have a few days off for Carnival here) so yeah, enjoy. Kudos, comment, drop me a line on Tumblr if you wish as I keep very odd hours so if I don’t get back to you right away, I will. I promise to get more updates out and not all chapters will be as long so Merry Mardi Gras, Tuesdays and weekends are the goal for this epic.


	5. Recovery (North Africa Pt II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holtzmann is treated and has a few choice words for the nurses and Abby. She also learns the necessity of communication, friendship and not being an ass, especially to Kevin.

November 11th, 1942

2230

  
French Morocco

  
Lt. Yates had been working non-stop between injured infantry soldiers who got wounded or were stupid enough to not watch the footpaths. She had three snakebites and a fourth soldier suffering from a sprained ankle.

The airfield was secure, and it had taken them three days to push the Vichy and German forces out, she was up to her knees in wounded. She continued her harried frenzy when Cpl. Hawkins came in with more wounded. 

Abby motioned for them to put the patient over on one of the empty stretchers as and she washed her hands from using the anti-venom on Private Mike H. Catt, god he was an idiot of a soldier. Snakes, just why snakes?

Phil was not helpful, and she was running on the cheap coffee from the mess hall and not much else. There were some gunshot wounds from when the men had taken the airfield, but the nurses and doctors had stabilized the trickier cases and Fillmore had put her on the downed aviator’s case.

* * *

  


Flying Officer Holtzmann shifted in the stretcher and sighed as Hawkins slung a plasma drip on a rifle. This is the first time she had injured herself enough to warrant bed-rest, save the time she is being blown up by irate French aviators.

Abby picked up the chart and had to do a double take, “Jeannie, I need some help with this one. Shoulder and leg, the ankle is worse. You ready?”

Holtzmann smirked as the woman realized that she was a woman, a woman pilot and not some supply pilot, an actual fighter pilot. The other nurse jogged over and was also startled that there was a woman lying in their triage area.

“I’ll hold the legs, you grab the forceps. On 3?” Jane says with a smirk as Abby nods.

“3!” They say together as Jeannie holds the kicking legs and Abby holds the woman’s shoulder down.  


The young pilot squirmed back and pushed the women away.

The tired flight officer, Beckman walked up behind them and tapped the nurse on the shoulder. 

Abby jumped and whirled around to see the tired British aviator, his dusty goggles hanging around his neck and his dirty blonde hair sticking up.

  
“Holtzmann, let her look at the shoulder. You bailed out and that is nothing to be ashamed, crazy woman.” Beckman scolded her who nods and groans as the nurse steadies her leg.

Abby seized the moment and digs deep into the shoulder of the downed pilot, clutching her tongs, and goes in.

The woman struggles but Abby knees her in the stomach, plucking three ugly pieces of shrapnel out of the shoulder and grunts as she drops the ugly pieces of lead into a butter dish.

The woman curses angrily at Beckman, “Pierdol się! Przestań się śmiać i trzymaj jej dupne ręce z dala od kostki." 

_(Bullshit! Stop laughing and keep her butt hands off the ankle.)  
_

Phil hadn't unpacked the steel dishes so Filmore went and found some Vichy butter dishes, which had been sanitized and were now in use. Bakelite was nothing to scoff at it, not at all and for once thank god for German craftsmanship.

Sherman finishes wrapping the sprained ankle from when the pilot had sprained it, after getting hit by the machine gun. She also wraps the blonde woman’s shoulder in gauze and steps back as the woman yelps and glares at Kevin as she does so.  


“Is she mad at me?” Abby asked the bemused Beckman and he shakes his head furiously as he chuckles, Jillian was not mad at her but was mad at the red-head, Jeannie.

“No, she is mad because she was in pain and neither of you were gentle. Many of the Polish pilots prefer our nurses, you were brash, and she thinks you two are weak due to the fact you are American and there was an insult or two in there.” Beckman explains as Abby simply nods and Jane laughs.

“I have never been insulted in Polish, but it feels great. Now, don’t try to get up you.” Jane said with a smile and wagged a finger at the wounded aviator who grimaced.

“Only you would appreciate getting insulted in a foreign language, Sherman.” Abby said with a smile and pats the other nurse on her back.

“What can I say? My brother cursed me out in Latin for years during seminary.” Jane replied with a chuckle.

“She seems to have tired herself out. Let me know when she is able to get back with us.” Beckman said as he looked at the nurses with a sad smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one down! Sorry it's short but c'est la vie and a huge shoutout to geekasm on the Tumblr for helping me out with the Polish, thank you for your patience and help! (:
> 
> Kudos, drop me a line in that comment bar and lemme know what ya'll thought.
> 
> I thought I would include the link of what a butter dish looks like and knew I had to include it. Ha. 
> 
> http://www.continentalmilitaria.com/eshop.german-ww2-reproduction-individual-personal-items,stranka1
> 
> Look, this is a slowburn and I need to let the plot simmer a while but, reviews are a nice moviator.


	6. Brief Update

Umm, so I haven’t updated this since February but school and whatnot has gotten in the way of this so I’ve decided to shelve this for now and come back to it in due time. The first chapter will be added to my one shot collection and edited but college is too busy for any major projects. 

I’ve come up with characters that could actually, honestly go into a war novel all on its own (with some research) and some of them will find themselves there eventually but for now don’t except any updates on this story until I can polish out the kinks and characters that just keep popping out of my head and... I’d rather keep it simply on the shelf for now. I’ll come back to this story one of these days or it would be better to do vignettes. 

I’ll delete this when I get back on track, until then this stays up.

ddaybluedevil


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